


Grief but over what, exactly?

by Taylexander_Hamilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, M/M, So much angst, too much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylexander_Hamilton/pseuds/Taylexander_Hamilton
Summary: Never going to finish this





	Grief but over what, exactly?

“You know what?! You’re an anxious spoiled little brat who thinks you can do whatever the fuck you want and not have to suffer any consequences because you can buy yourself out!” Alexander Hamilton screamed across the apartment at the man he thought he loved, trembling with rage and fury but also grief. Grief over the relationship he was losing, the best friend but more. Way more than that.

Thomas Jefferson was silent for a moment much to Alex’s surprise while he composed himself enough to give a civilized response. Though, when he did speak, it was a low hiss, all the negative emotion being tossed on the floor with a few words. “You came from NOTHING. You are NOTHING. You really think you can make a difference in this world?! No one of your shitty status can EVER make a difference, so why don’t you just crawl back to whatever shit hole you climbed out of?!” It wasn’t as civilized as Thomas had hoped but it was all he could say, all he could think in return.

Alex gazed down at his feet, unable to look up. “Get out,” he mumbled quietly, voice hard but barely holding back the ocean of emotions. When he didn’t see an automatic response, he repeated the same phrase. Only it was more of a scream a cry of grief as they dripped through the cracks of the dam he had worked so hard to build. Tears found their way to his eyes as Hamilton began to realize who he was, who Jefferson allowed him to realize he was.

Thomas’s response was no less hostile. “Fine. You know what? Fine,” Thomas snarled, grabbing his bag and taking long strides to the door. Once his hand could touch the doorknob, he wrenched open the door and looked back. “Fuck you, Alexander Hamilton.” And with that, he left, slamming the door shut behind him without another word.

With the door shut, Alex broke. Thomas, no, 

had broke him. He crumbled to the floor like all the energy had been sucked out of him and only a shell remained. His head rested in his hands, legs curled up underneath him. It didn’t happen, it was all a dream, he tried to convince himself. He’d wake up in Thomas’s arms with the sunlight rudely streaming in through the curtains like he usually would and it would all be okay. It would just be a terrible nightmare.

But it wasn’t. It was the reality Alex was forced to take part of; that he had caused. He had no one but himself to blame. And Jefferson, that son of a bitch.

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around his bunched up knees and buried his face in his arms. Violent sobs wracked his tiny form but there was no one to hear him, no one to comfort him. But that’s how it had always been, right? Before Jefferson, before John with enemies surrounding him at every turn? But Jefferson was gone now. John had always been there for him. Always.

Seconds passed which turned into minutes which turned into hours. The sobs became dry and empty. Just another thing to grieve the loss of. Alex had to do something else. Something meaningful. Not knowing what else to do, he whipped out his phone and started typing madly.

 

[Alex: John hon can u com e ovrr pleaees?]

 

The response was fast as though John had been waiting for such a text.

 

[John: of course, what’s up?]

 

[Alex: Jefferfuck isss an assholr]

 

[John: I’m on my way]

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate all feedback, kudos, and reads!


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